


Cecilos: The Ten-Disc Special Collection

by belaruslovesyou



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Randomness, Romantic Comedy, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belaruslovesyou/pseuds/belaruslovesyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>***Originally posted under same name on fanfiction.***<br/>Just ten little fluffy Cecilos musings, nothin' too fancy, nothin' too racy. No discs are involved, so why does the title refer to discs? I dunno. More descriptions inside.<br/>Not to be completed, because I've lost interest. Because I'm terrible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Afterwards

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm in the process of transitioning from fanfiction.net to here. This is my only current NV fic (all the rest are Hetalia, blech; prolly won't transfer 'em), but every new Night Vale thing I write, I'll be posting here.  
> This work isn't currently complete. I still have two chapters left to write, but I'll get there.  
> So, enjoy. Review. Subscribe to me. Fall madly in love with me. Get rejected by me.  
> xD Hope I can please this new audience! <3  
> The dialogue at the beginning of this ficlet is likely familiar to you. All credit goes to the lovely writers of WTNV!

Disc 1: Afterwards

"Well," the scientist gestured over his shoulder, smiling as awkwardly as a person can, "this is me."

The broadcaster nodded slowly. "Uh-huh."

Looking at his fidgeting hands, Carlos murmured, "I should probably do something about this 'buzzing shadow' thing." He stole a quick glance at his companion, which did not go unnoticed. "A few experiments," he rambled on, his voice fading. "To see if I can save the town..."

"Oh?" Carlos could feel Cecil's three eyes boring through him. "Do you need any help with that?"

"No," the scientist responded all too quickly. He swallowed and continued, "A scientist is self-reliant. It's the first thing a scientist is."

"Oh," Cecil barely managed the sound. The tone of the radio personality's voice and his spindly form slumping in the corner of his eye made Carlos' heart sink. So he leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against Cecil's, only for a short moment, before slipping wordlessly and gracefully out of the black car and into his lab, his home.

Unexplainably numb, Carlos made his way to his kitchen and unlocked the entrance to his lab. As he made his way down the all-too-silent stairs, he felt his calloused, golden fingers involuntarily fly up to his tingling lips.

Sinking into an office chair, surrounded by the comforting noises and lights of his lab, the normally quite manly Carlos allowed himself a moment of giddiness, complete with a crooked smile and a teenager-esque squeal. All the while, his fingers never once left his lips.

Meanwhile, Cecil was still sitting silently in his car outside Carlos' residence. Oblivious to the shadow creatures around him, he stared forward. One hand clenched tightly to the steering wheel, the other flew to his lips. Absently, he brushed his fingers across them, as if doing so could confirm that his scientist's lips had touched them just moments before.

Suddenly, Cecil let go an enormous squeak, his unusually sharp teeth bleach white in the dark. Beaming like an idiot, he started his car and pulled off into the street. All the while, his fingers never once left his lips.

Back in his lab, Carlos still slouched in his office chair, smiling to himself and slowly spinning around and around. At some point, he forgot all about saving the town. Thoughts crept in, thoughts that were all Cecil-centered.

What would Cecil do if he were down here?

Where and when did he get all those beautiful tattoos?

Does he know that I listen to him everyday?

As the night wore on, Carlos' musings took a different turn. Soon enough, he found himself hunched over, Cecil's name hissing shakily from his lips. Too tired and too blissful to move, he assured himself he'd clean up tomorrow. The scientist let himself drift off to sleep in his office chair, with one thought tugging at his mind:

I wish I would've kissed him longer.

Once he arrived at his apartment, Cecil made his way to his bedroom. He loosened his black-and-purple striped tie and flopped backwards onto his bed. Thoughts all about Carlos overcame him.

What would Carlos do if he were over here?

Where part of the world does that little hint of an accent belong to?

Does he ever listen to my show?

As the pearly moon made its way across the sky, Cecil's thoughts leapt down a different path. Eventually, he found himself sprawled across his bed, enthusiastically sighing Carlos' name. Looking at the mess he'd made, he decided cleaning could wait until the morning. Cecil curled up onto his side and let himself slip out of consciousness, with one thought tugging at his mind:

I wish he would've kissed me longer.

REM sleep sank over the two lovebirds. Their dreams were astonishingly alike. The broadcaster closed warmly inside the scientist's arms, both with closed eyes, but not asleep. Nothing needed to be said; they knew everything they had to.

And they both knew, for sure, they were in love.


	2. Tanning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disc 2, in which Cecil's skin is very sensitive and Carlos laughs at him for being such a nerd*******.  
> *******Not really, but, yeah. Cecil does get some sunburn. So it goes.

Disc 2: Tanning

"Ow!"

"Shh, Cecil, shh," Carlos soothed. "It'll help. I promise."

Burns. Pink, flaky burns. All over Cecil's normally porcelain shoulders, back, chest, face - everywhere, really. Save for his marvelously purple tattoos, the voice of Night Vale was, for the most part, a painful shade of lobster red.

The whole thing had started off normally; it was a slow news day, so Cecil was able to sign off early, leaving his listeners to the sound of nights that have never happened nor ever will. Instead of spending the rest of the day alone in his small apartment (the faceless old woman had been acting up lately), he'd decided to drive over to Carlos' house, to see how his current research was coming along.

Cecil let himself into his boyfriend's house. "Carlos?"

No response. Cecil weaved through the scientist's unruly living and dining rooms and into his even more disorganized kitchen.

"Carlos?" The radio personality asked again, louder. He received a response this time.

"Out here, Cecil!"

Following the sound of his perfect Carlos' voice, Cecil opened the nearby screen door and walked out into a sun-bathed backyard, which was, in fact, covered in grass, despite their city being in the middle of the desert.

To the platinum blonde broadcaster's surprised delight, Carlos was sprawled out, face down, on an old blanket, wearing only a white pair of boxers.

"Hi there," The mostly-naked scientist smiled drowsily. "Off air early?"

"Um, yeah," Cecil nodded slowly, eye brows wrinkled and third eye squinting. "So, uh... what're you doing?"

"Tanning," Carlos answered, voice muffled by the blanket.

"Tanning..?"

"Yeah," Carlos propped himself up on his elbows, tilting his head at his favorite radio announcer. His black curls, along with their premature, stress-induced silver strands, fell into his eyes. "Tanning."

Cecil loved those strands. They made the twenty-six-year-old researcher look smart and sophisticated. "I'm afraid I don't know what tanning is," Cecil shrugged, hands buried deep inside the pockets of his black dress pants, which the weather was far too hot for. "Is it a science-y thing?"

Carlos chuckled. "I guess it's a sort of scientific process, yes." He rolled over onto his back. "Really, it's just lying in the sun. You know, so your skin gets darker."

Nodding absently, Cecil let his eyes wander around his boyfriend's already bronzed body. Carlos was from some place he called 'Brazil', in a land called 'South America'. Did he really need to do this thing he so affectionately referred to as 'tanning'?

Cecil, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt, examined his arm. Compared to Carlos, he was so... white. He'd always been that way, despite living in the heat for his whole life. Old Woman Josie once told him that his ghostly pallor matched that of the non-existent angels' robes.

"Can I do it, too?" Cecil asked, feeling a sudden urge to be any shade but marble white.

Carlos opened one brown eye questioningly. "Cecil, you... I'm not sure the sun would be so kind to you."

"Nonsense," the pale radio host scoffed, loosening his purple tie and tossing it to the ground. He started working on the buttons of his gray vest.

"I-I don't think this is a good idea," Carlos warned, shaking his head. "The UV rays could damage your skin, you know." He sat up and stared warily at Cecil. "And I like your skin the way it is."

Cecil smiled, discarding his white shirt and revealing the purple swirls of his torso to the sun's rays. "But I'm so dead-looking," he whined, stepping out of his slacks. "And you're so... not. Move over."

Defeated, Carlos sighed and made room for his boyfriend next to him on his blanket. "Bad idea, Cecil. Bad idea."

"Shush," Cecil hit the scientist's arm.

The two had remained quiet and, eventually, they drifted off to sleep. Carlos was awoken by Cecil's estranged cry as he realized that tanning was, just as Carlos had said, a bad idea.

Carlos pulled his burnt partner by the hand into his kitchen and sat him down in the only empty chair. He then disappeared into his bedroom, digging around in unpacked boxes until he finally found an unopened bottle of aloe. And, according to Cecil, the aloe stung.

It took some time, but the scientist managed to calm Cecil down enough to medicate his burns.

"I warned you," Carlos reminded his boyfriend, massaging the cool gel into Cecil's shoulder.

"Barely!" Cecil rolled his violet eyes. "You could have knocked me unconscious and dragged me in here. Idiot."

"Well, what did you expect?" Carlos, grinning, dabbed some aloe onto Cecil's cheeks. "You were in your underwear. I was powerless."

Cecil snorted. The noise made Carlos chuckle. Being careful not to irritate Cecil's skin, he wrapped his arms around his reddened neck and knelt down so the two were face-to-face.

"There. Done," Carlos told him. "You'll be back to normal in a week or so."

Cecil stared, watching himself in Carlos' eyes. "Stupid, perfect you with your stupid, beautiful tan."

The scientist pressed his lips to the radio host's. "Stupid you with your perfect, pale skin and your stupid habit of not listening to your obviously smart boyfriend."

"Night Vale is so hearing about this tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to put this on Chap. 1, buuutttt:  
> Please review! Let me know whatcha think. Hugs and kissies.  
> Kissies.  
> Hahaaha.


	3. Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow in Night Vale. And Cecil doesn't react well. Because, well.... they're in the desert.

Disc 3:

Snow

Carlos shook his head at the reading coming from his spectrophotometer. He'd put so many different dyes in the tap water; it didn't make sense. The absorbance should have changed, should have fluctuated almost dramatically.

The scientist was recording the current number down in a chart when his phone vibrated on the table next to him. Begrudgingly, he tore himself away from his work to answer the call.

"Carlos," he sighed, leaning against the black lab table.

"Oh, good. You're okay," The broadcaster released his breath. "Is the world ending?"

"What are you talking about, Cecil?" The over-exaggerated, worried tone of the other's voice almost made Carlos laugh. "I-I don't think so."

"B-but outside! The sky, beautiful Carlos. The sky!"

"Huh. I'm usually the one flipping out about that stuff," Carlos said, mostly to himself. He held his phone between his ear and shoulder, brushing a curl away from his eyes. "Calm down. Tell me what's going on."

"Can't you see it?!" Cecil's panicked yelling made Carlos jump a bit. "There is wet, white stuff falling down from the clouds!"

Carlos laughed. "Cecil Palmer," he scolded, twirling his red pen around in his fingers. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Wha-? No. Carlos, seriously," The radio host pleaded. "I'm scared."

"Okay, okay. Let me take a look," Carlos pushed himself away from his table, walking over to a basement window. He used his spotted coat sleeve to clear the fogged glass.

"You have nothing to be afraid of," Carlos assured, smiling to himself. "It's just snow, Cecil."

"Never heard of it."

"Really?" The scientist observed the snow fondly; it reminded him of more normal days. In all honesty, it reminded him of almost anywhere he'd been in research but Night Vale. "You'd think that you'd have seen it once or twice. I mean, there was that glacier out in the sandwastes a few months ago."

"... will it hurt me, Carlos?" Grinning, Carlos pictured Cecil's horrified face, staring out at the snow flakes from his dark apartment window.

"No. It's harmless," Carlos shook his head, switching his phone to his other hand. "Listen. I'll be over in a second. Sit tight, okay?"

Carlos drove through the snow (which was not wet, but dry and great for packing) halfway across town to Cecil's apartment. He wasn't surprised to find the other watching eagerly for him from the second story window.

Tightening the gray scarf he'd thrown around his neck before leaving his home, Carlos stepped out of his truck and into the midsummer, desert wonderland. He smiled happily up at Cecil and motioned for him to come down.

It didn't take long for his boyfriend to make it to the entrance of his building. Cecil stared wide-eyed out at Carlos, shivering in the thresh hold.

"C'mere," Carlos opened his arms and grinned. "I'm not cold."

Hesitantly, the announcer stepped out into the flakes. "Why is it so freezing?" He complained, examining his surroundings. "This is absolutely - "

"You're such a baby!" Carlos hurled a snow ball straight at Cecil's face. It nailed him right between the eyes and nearly knocked his black glasses to the ground. Carlos nearly doubled over when his boyfriend's stare settled menacingly on him, his eyes visibly turning a darker shade of purple.

"That. Hurt," Cecil hissed, wiping his face with his arm.

"Aw, stop it," The scientist, hands in pockets, made his way over to the shivering broadcaster. "How is it possible that you've never even heard of snow?"

"City council, probably," Cecil responded, laboriously forcing it through chattering teeth. "But, gosh, Carlos. This sucks. Hard."

Carlos snickered, taking off his scarf and draping it around the smaller of the two's shoulders, before pulling him into the warmth of his arms. "Okay, now you really are trying to seduce me."

"It's just your imagination," Cecil retorted, settling gratefully into Carlos' comforting embrace. "I'm too cold to function that way right now."

"Mm, you'll warm up in a bit," Carlos teased, kissing the top of Cecil's short, blonde locks. "You wanna go inside?"

Cecil nodded and twisted out of Carlos' arms. He was pulling his key out of his pants pocket and opening the door when he felt another, larger snow ball pin him in the back.

"Carlos, you asshole! This is my favorite silk vest!"

"Yeah, yeah. Stop whining and get in there. The sooner you're warm again, the better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? ^^ xxoxo


	4. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Carlos is sick. What is sick? Cecil definitely doesn't know. He knows very little.

Disc 4: Sick

"Carlos?" Cecil walked into his boyfriend's house, closing the door quietly behind him. He'd came over as soon as he was off the air; during the day's weather, he received a text from Carlos:

when you're done, come here. need help.

After shaking his head at the seemingly smart scientist's lack of capitalization, a small amount of panic set in. He quickly sent a message back:

What's wrong? Are you okay? I can come now and have the intern cover for me.

It wasn't until a few anxious-filled minutes later that Cecil finally got an answer, during a pre-recorded public service announcement about the new laws regarding the current restrictions on writing utensils:

not dying or anything. just come when you can. xo

So Cecil had stopped his worrying (well, almost) and drove somewhat calmly over the Carlos' house/lab.

The broadcaster didn't receive a verbal response; what he did hear was a creaking from above him, where the attic doubled as Carlos' bedroom.

Taking two stairs at a time, Cecil quickly climbed into the other's room. "Oh, dear," he sighed, taking in the sight.

Carlos, who was rarely cold, lay bundled in a huddle of heavy blankets and afghans. His black curls were full of knots and damp with sweat. The scientist's normal, golden pallor had faded into a sickly, deathly, gray tan. He opened his eyes at Cecil's voice and mustered a smile. "Oh. Hi, darling," he greeted him, his voice hoarse and stuffy.

"Oh, dear," Cecil repeated, quickly perching next to the other on the bed. "I thought you told me you weren't dying."

"I'm not," The scientist tried to laugh, but ended up coughing instead. "It's just the flu, I think," he yawned, turning his head towards his boyfriend and gazing up at him, overly happy to see him in his deteriorated state. "I haven't been up to swabbing for samples, though."

"The flu, hm?" Cecil said, as if he knew what Carlos was talking about. He laid his palm on the other's forehead and instantly recoiled. "How are you cold? Your face is on fire."

"Yeah, my fever's pretty bad. But it's down to one - " Carlos narrowed his eyes weakly, studying Cecil's face. "You don't know what a fever is, do you?"

"No, I know. Really, I do," The announcer ran his hand through Carlos' horrible bedhead. "It's just that I've never been, you know... sick before."

"You're twenty-nine years old and you've never been sick."

Cecil shook his head. "Not once."

One of the scientist hands emerged from his flu cocoon. "You, sir," he lightly poked Cecil's nose, "are one spectacular specimen."

"And you," Cecil took Carlos' hand and tucked it back under his blankets. "You're disgusting. No offense." Although he'd never admit it, the radio personality was a bit of a germaphobe.

"Well, yeah," Carlos pushed out a sarcastic chuckle. "Vomit, lack of proper nutrition, constant sweat, a peak temp of one-oh-three, and a home made out of old covers will do that to you."

"Okay. Stop. Stop talking, Carlos," Cecil shuddered. "That's... ew."

"Mmhm. 'Cause you'd be the first to know," The researcher rolled his eyes. "Now, listen. I need you to get some stuff for me..."

An hour or two later, Cecil had Carlos all fixed up. He'd brought him ginger ale (also, a bucket - in case Carlos needed to throw up that ginger ale). He'd dug out some medicine that Carlos had stored away amid boxes in a closet (Cecil was positive that the man was a hoarder). He'd carried various pieces of equipment up from Carlos' lab ("In case I get bored," he had told Cecil). He'd picked tissues and papers off of the bedroom floor, made Carlos dry toast (which he promptly regurgitated - thank the Glow Cloud for that damn bucket), brought him cherry cough drops, even helped him change into different pajamas.

Cecil was currently resting with his scientist. They were both under two blankets (Cecil was dying of heat; Carlos was still shivering) and Carlos lie cuddled half on top of Cecil, which was out of the ordinary for the two. Cecil didn't mind, though, and wrapped his arms protectively around his boyfriend, wishing he had the power to get rid of his virus.

Carlos nestled his face into the side of Cecil's neck, the radio personality's blonde hair and creamy skin warm and helping to ease the worst of the fever.

"You might want to move," The scientist spoke into the other's tattoo-covered neck. "I'm going to fall asleep."

Cecil shook his head. "No. I'll stay with you." He craned his neck to give his sickly Carlos a kiss, pushing the germ-fearing part of him to the back of his mind. "Sleep and feel better."

The two of them fell asleep and slept straight through the night, just until after sunrise.

"Carlos. Carlos," Cecil gently shook the scientist. "Carlos. Get up."

"Hm?" Carlos drowsily awoke, smiling to see Cecil "Hey. Good - "

"You have cast me into the pits of hell," Cecil spat, stirring up a coughing fit.

Carlos grinned and angled himself over his boyfriend, feeling much better since the previous day. "Not so healthy now, are you?" He joked, moving in to give Cecil a proper morning greeting.

"You're the DEVIL!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, by the way. :)


	5. History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the two get on the topic of homosexuality.  
> Which, by the way, is totally cool. Proud bi girl who is also proud to be your author, thanks very much.  
> ****Also, Florida's cool. I went there once. To Disney World. So, yeah. No harm meant.  
> Also:  
> NOT TRYING TO OFFEND ANYONE HERE.  
> Lots of controversial stuff, lots of headcanon-y stuff, so yeah. No hate. <3

Disc 5: History

It wasn't soon after Carlos' lab had overtaken his home, after he and Cecil had started living together in a small house nearly in the center of Night Vale (since a condo was completely out of the question), that Carlos finally asked Cecil something that'd been nagging at his mind since before the two began dating.

Cecil was curled comfortably into Carlos' side, with the scientist's arm slung casually over his shoulders. The broadcaster was dozing off; the documentary Carlos had pleaded that they watch didn't interest him in the least.

"How did you know, Cecil?"

"Know what?" The broadcaster looked up, tilting his head.

"That you were, you know..," Carlos shrugged. "That you were gay. I mean, no one else here seems to be."

"I just knew, I guess," Cecil responded, not phased at all by the question. "No one really cares about that stuff."

"Are you kidding?" Carlos asked, shocked. "You were never teased? Never shoved in a locker?"

"Um, no," Cecil was amused by his boyfriend's surprised reaction and the fact that he thought City Council had ever allowed lockers. "Were you?"

"Cecil, I lived in the backwoods of Florida from the time I was five until I was eighteen," Carlos shook his head. "The whole thing along with my science obsession... it's astonishing that I wasn't stoned to death."

The broadcaster shrugged, not understanding. "I don't see why. I mean, I was thirteen, hung around a lot with Earl, engaged in - "

"You didn't!"

"I did. Like, five times, actually?" Cecil had a habit of slipping out of his pro-speak into a more teenage girl, everything ends with a question mark speak. "Anywho, what I'm trying to say is that it's just nature; no one really gave a second thought about it. And I don't see why your Florida friends would, either."

"I wouldn't call them my 'friends'," Carlos chuckled monotonously. "See, there's this thing called the Bible, Cecil."

"Hm..," The broadcaster searched his mind, trying to recall if he knew what Carlos was talking about. "City Council must not allow it."

Carlos stared. "Must not allow '1984', either," he mumbled. "Or maybe they use it as a source of government advice..."

"Don't talk down our City Council," Cecil pouted. His allegiance to those power hungry, communistic freaks sometimes disturbed the hell out of Carlos. Cecil urged Carlos to speak. "I believe you were telling me your story, yes?"

"Well," The scientist settled back into the couch. "You already know that my father and I left Sao Paulo after my mother died, right?" Cecil nodded.

"Okay. So, Dad moved me from Brazil to Florida. I was almost five then. In fact, I turned five on our first official day in our house," Carlos smiled at the memory. It was one of the few good ones he had of his father. "And he was trying to fit in pretty well in town. He got me involved in a bunch of things, like football - "

"I thought you didn't know the first thing about football."

"Soccer. I meant soccer." Carlos mentally called it football, anyway. It wasn't like he was any good at it, so did it really matter that he didn't American-ize the sport's name?

"I sort of fit in, I guess," Carlos continued. He liked being the one to tell the stories for once. "For elementary and most of middle school. I had a few friends. Wasn't popular or anything. Probably because I used to catch lizards and slice them open."

"Oh, my."

"Mmhm. So, everything was fine until this one day in eighth grade, during gym class. We were changing back into our school clothes after volleyball or basketball or something else I sucked at. And there was this one boy - not a friend, really, but an acquaintance - and for a fourteen-year-old-boy, he was pretty damn handsome.

"I guess it could be considered my fault. I mean, I knew I'd been having those type of thoughts, but I tried to ignore them. My dad, he was a church-y man. I didn't have the guts to try and talk to him. And I knew I should've changed somewhere off by myself. But instead I stayed and stared and I..," Carlos hesitated; it was hard for him to talk about this. It caused so much pain for him in high school, even though, as he realized by this point, the actual story was pretty comical. He near silently mumbled the rest. "I, uh, how you say, pitched a tent in my shorts in front of everyone."

"Ohhh," Cecil sighed sadly and squeezed Carlos' hand. "I'm sorry."

"You're not laughing. Hmph. I usually get one or two out of that one."

Cecil gave Carlos one of the most genuine, stoic stare he'd ever recalled seeing. "I would never make a joke of your life."

"Uh, that's, um..," The scientist felt awkward under the affectionate gaze. "Thanks. Thank you. Really."

"I love you. Now go on with your history lesson."

"People were pretty mean after that. Name calling, the locker-shoving, public humiliation. Then, during science class, I just made things worse," Carlos sighed. "I argued with my teacher for a whole forty minutes on why the theory of evolution is correct. I mean, people are certainly entitled to their views, but I wasn't aware of that then, so I stuck to my guns. Somewhere during that fight, I yelled out something along the lines of, 'God doesn't exist. Your need for a feeling of security is what created a higher being. Blah, blah, blah.' Aaaand that's when life got really bad.

Things got back to my dad. He went all cold towards me. People just got meaner and meaner... the worst was during junior year, when a kid broke my nose and bruised my collarbone. I had to drive myself to the hospital. Forty-five minutes away. Seriously bad homophobia. And right-wing conservatism."

"Gosh, Carlos. I'm sorry," Cecil wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's neck.

"What for? You didn't do anything." Carlos thought a bit, a grin slowly crawling onto his face. "In fact, in anything of that shit never happened to me, I'd never be here with you. Wouldn't that suck more than a broken nose?"

"Mm," Cecil agreed, nodding into Carlos' neck. "I would've never noticed that you broke your nose. You're too perfect."

"Obviously, I'm not," The scientist disagreed. He knew it all too well; nothing was completely perfect, even if it seemed so. Carlos was learning quickly, however, that the love the Cecil had for him was more than impressive. The fact that, no matter what he did, the scientist continued to be viewed as beautiful, perfect... that was more than he could ever ask for. A man like Cecil was the gift he'd never expected from life. After being constantly told he was wrong for twenty-six years, Cecil's unconditional affection was more than he felt he deserved.

"You are really too perfect. Perfectly, beautifully, brilliantly imperfect. And I love every bit of it."


	6. Venting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cecil, well... vents.

Disc 6: Venting

It was finally here; Carlos and Cecil's six-month anniversary. It wasn't a terribly long time, but it was proof - proof that there was possibility for them. It was evidence that they could really last, and they were going strong. No sign of faltering yet.

They hadn't planned anything extravagant. Just a nice dinner at home, dim lights, a candle here and there, movies - a romantic musical, Cecil had wanted. He'd settled on West Side Story. Nothing amazing was really supposed to happen that night, besides, maybe, a bit of fluffy love to fall asleep to.

It was seven-thirty, and Carlos was arriving at their home just on time. It was a rare feat, him making it out of the lab when he aimed to. The scientist was pretty proud of himself. He walked through the door and was surprised when he bumped into Cecil.

"Hey," Carlos smiled. "I'm ho - "

"Go back out," Cecil nudged Carlos backwards, locking and slamming the door behind the both of them. "We're going out."

"We are?" Carlos asked, wrinkling his eyebrows. The broadcaster made his way to the scientist's beat up truck. "But I thought we had - "

"Come on!" Cecil whined, hopping into Carlos' car. Carlos stared, and Cecil stared back. The broadcaster's lack of emotion - save for a tint of some, what was it, anxiety? - intrigued Carlos, and not in the good, research-y scientist way. Confused, he got in the car, turned the key in the ignition, and followed Cecil's blunt directions.

 

After about twenty minutes, Carlos was ordered to stop.

He'd been driving down a long, deserted road for a while, until Cecil had directed him to turn off into the barren, dusty-grounded desert. Not long after, they stopped.

The sight before Carlos was amazing. The sand shone reddish-tan and stretched out as far as he could see. Where the land ended, the purple sky began. It was a clear, warm night, and space was like a canvas - shimmery white stars splattered on a dark violet background, with a big, pristine full moon brushed on in the corner. It was still and silent, and Carlos loved every bit of it.

The silence lasted for a few minutes. It wasn't awkward; Carlos was waiting for Cecil to talk, and he knew that the generally good-with-words radio personality needed time to sort out his thoughts. That wasn't to say that Carlos was not worried about the resulting conversation; could it be a carefully thought-out break-up? He didn't think there'd been any problems between the two of them, but he couldn't help fearing the worst.

Finally, Cecil spoke.

"Do you love me?" He asked.

"Yes. Yes, of course I do," Carlos responded quickly. Oh, my God, he's breaking up with me. Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God...

"Why did it take you so long, then?"

Those weren't the words the scientist was expecting. Turning in his seat to face Cecil, he asked, "What are you talking about?"

Cecil didn't look at Carlos. Rather, he stared through the windshield, up at the stars. He opened his door and motioned for his boyfriend to follow him. Outside, he jumped up on the hood of the gray-blue truck. Carlos took his seat next to him.

The broadcaster sighed. "You knew me for a year, Carlos. It took you over a year to ask me to go on a date with you."

"Yeah...?"

"Well, why?" Cecil finally looked at Carlos. In his fiery, purple eyes, Carlos found an emotion he could easily relate to - a mixture of sadness, disappointment, and hurt.

"I was new," Carlos shrugged after some consideration. "I guess I wasn't comfortable here yet. I mean, Night Vale's not the most pleasant place - "

"I could have helped you."

"Yeah, but..," Carlos was at a loss. He certainly hadn't been expecting any of this, and Cecil's behavior truly was worrying him. He sighed, his mind not giving him any words to use.

"But what?" Cecil prodded. "Was there a problem with me? Is there a problem with me? I really liked you."

Carlos knew that. He knew that very well, and was very happy for that. "Cecil, you..," The scientist paused. How to say it? How could he -

"Wait," Cecil held up his hand, stopping Carlos. His eyes glistened in the moonlight. "Let me talk a bit. It's been a long time; I need to vent."

Carlos relaxed and nodded. Venting is good, right? He didn't have to wait long for Cecil to start.

"Well, I know I'm, like, forward, right? So you had to know I liked you. You listened to me on the radio all the time. You told me you did. So I just couldn't understand, couldn't process what you found so wrong in me. I mean, you didn't even acknowledge me! I tried, I made references to you so much that station management nearly left their office, and you didn't even care.

Then there was that one night, like this, and you were like, 'After everything that happened, I just wanted to see you,' or something. And I was happy at the time, because I was finally getting what I wanted. But was that all I was, Carlos? Just a distraction from everything? Is that what I still am? Because that's not what I want to be.

And I know it's been six months, and maybe that's a bit too long for me to be your distraction, but I'm still worried. Because you're my first adult relationship, and I haven't even dated anyone since early high school. I don't even remember high school. Did I go to high school? I had to, where else would I have learned Modified Sumerian? But my point is, I've liked you for so long and you hardly ever make an effort to get home on time, and - "

"I was home on time today," Carlos interjected.

"Did you just interrupt me?" Cecil spat.

"Sorry."

"Is science more important than me?"

"What? Cecil, I'm a scientist, so it's - "

"So you like your micro-photo-spec-scope better than me." Cecil crossed his arms and stared away from Carlos.

"Th-that's not even a thing! Cecil, would you let me - "

"Is it one of your lab assistants? I'll admit that red-haired one is pretty attractive, but - "

"Cecil! Really?! Listen - "

"I bet you two put those beakers and test tubes to good use."

"God damn it to hell, Cecil, shut your goddamned mouth!"

A period of silence followed. Carlos was normally the calm and collected one, despite Night Vale's effect on him. Cecil sank into the worn passenger seat, shrinking into himself. Carlos took a deep breath.

"You are so wrong, Cecil."

"Am not - "

"It's my turn to talk now," The scientist shot a look at Cecil, who immediately went back to staring forward and listening intently.

"I know you don't understand that life pretty much anywhere else but here is almost totally different. And when I came from my research lab at that university up in Washington, it was like extreme culture shock. Clouds don't glow in Washington, Cecil! So, yes, I thought you were off-putting at first. I was focused on my work.

But then you kept popping up. I'd be documenting the radioactivity of the soil around the Dog Park or the air pressure in the bowling alley and you'd just wander into my mind. Very inconveniently. And I'm not good with people, Cecil. You're a people person. I'm a dark room, quiet assistant person. So, yeah, it took me a while.

But, Cecil, you're not a distraction! Sure, you did distract me, but in a good way. I look forward to coming home to you everyday, even after listening to you talk for hours on end. My heart still jumps a bit whenever you mention me when you're on the air. I like you a lot, Cecil. More than I've liked anyone, which might not be saying a lot, but it's true. I'm sorry if I made you feel otherwise. I love you. Okay? Can we go home now? I love you. Are you crying?"

"... you look so cute when you're distressed." Cecil sniffled.

"Stop crying," Carlos groaned.

"I love you," The broadcaster said, wiping his eyes.

"I love you, too. You're very dramatic sometimes, like a teenage girl, but I love you, too. Stop crying. Let's go home," Carlos reached over and squeezed Cecil's hand, then turned the key in the ignition.

"'Kay. I wanna try that beaker stuff - "

"Mm, no. No, you don't."


	7. Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussion between the two about heaven.

Disc 7: Heaven

"Carlos?"

"Mm?"

"Does heaven exist?"

This wasn't the kind of question the scientist was expecting at midnight. The night was cool and the sky was clear; moonlight shone through the open window and a warm breeze blew through the bedroom. The unusual serenity of it all had made Carlos drowsy very quickly, and the broadcaster's inquiry just threw him off.

Carlos didn't exactly know how to answer his boyfriend's question. Sure, he was firm in his own personal thoughts, but Cecil was so impressionable sometimes. He didn't want him to take his views for his own; he wanted Cecil to believe whatever he wanted to believe.

Carlos sighed and ran a hand through his tangled curls. "Do you think it exists?" he mused.

"I think so..," Cecil responded from his crumpled position against Carlos' side.

"Then it exists." Carlos closed his eyes and tried to drift back off to sleep, hoping Cecil would take that as a satisfactory answer.

"Do you think it's real?" Cecil asked after a few moments. Carlos felt him sit up, could feel his eyes staring down on him. He rolled over on his side to face the other.

"I think..," the scientist carefully began, slow and unsure. "I think that we all... have our own ways of thinking, and that they don't really matter. I think that if you think there's an afterlife and I think there's just dirt, it doesn't matter. That stuff's not important."

Carlos could see Cecil's eyes, shining in the dark, purplish orbs against the black. They were blank; there was no sign of understanding, no sign of confusion.

"So you believe all we do is rot in the ground?" Cecil said after a long pause.

Carlos rubbed his eyes, tired and not wanting to have this conversation. "I never said that."

"You sort of did," Cecil pointed out, shrugging his slight, edgy shoulders.

"Look, Cecil," Carlos forced himself up and looked Cecil in the eye. "If you believe there's a heaven, there's a heaven, alright? It doesn't matter what I believe. I'm not you. What I think isn't important. So stop thinking about it and go the hell to sleep, okay?"

Carlos laid back down and rolled away from Cecil, covering his head with his cool pillow, hoping to block the other out. Seconds and minutes passed, and the scientist felt like he was in the clear -

"So you believe in hell, then?"

Carlos groaned into the bed. "Why do you care, Cecil?!" He spit, his lack of sleep wearing on his patience.

"Because," the other responded. "I just want to know. That's all. I want to know what goes on inside your head, what you're thinking about."

Pushing the pillow away, Carlos eyed Cecil, debating. "Okay," he nodded. "Fine. What I think is that there's no way to prove there's a deity, but there's ways to prove evolution. I think that the concept of a soul is very far-fetched. I think that there's no possible way for another realm to exist in which we spend the rest of eternity. So, no, I don't exactly believe in a heaven."

Cecil didn't say anything back; he made a little 'hm' noise and remained static.

"That's what I think," Carlos continued, "and it doesn't matter. What matters now is, well... now. Why waste your life dwelling on what's going to happen after it? Live for now. Live for your job and what you love. Live for you. Don't let what other people say and think get in your way, okay? Live for you and for now."

Cecil chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. "But... what if I end up in hell or - "

"Cecil, stop it," Carlos propped himself up against the wooden headboard and pulled Cecil close to him. "Don't worry about it. Besides, you'd go to hell, anyway," The scientist half-smiled. "You've laid with another man one too many times."

Cecil shook with silent laughter. "And that's not something I can change, is it?"

"Why would you want to change it?" Carlos asked. "There's no point to it. Live for you, Cecil. If you want to be happy, live for you."


	8. Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I posted this chapter to fanfiction on Valentine's Day, because, uh...  
> Cecil seduces Carlos with science-y pick-up lines.  
> Yaaaaaaay!

Disc 8: Science

"Hey, Cecil," Carlos greeted his boyfriend with a kiss on the cheek.

"Good evening," Cecil smiled at the other, who had just returned from work. With a loud thud, Carlos dropped his briefcase onto the floor and crumpled onto the couch next to Cecil, tiredly running a hand through his chocolate brown locks.

"What're we doing tonight?" the scientist yawned. Fridays were date nights. They typically spent the whole day discussing what they would be doing over texts, but Cecil hadn't mentioned anything about it at all.

"Just watch TV, I guess," Cecil answered, crossing his legs underneath himself. "I'm being lazy today."

"That's fine with me," Carlos half-smiled, relieved. He was unusually tired today and wasn't particularly crazy about engaging in any unnecessary social interaction.

Time passed. The two made their normal conversation, along with complaints and praises for whatever they were watching. Positions shifted. Cecil ended up lying across the couch, his feet resting on the arm and his head in Carlos' lap.

"So," Cecil changed the subject. "You know how today was a slow news day?"

"Mhm," Carlos nodded. If you call the disappearance of twenty first-graders a "slow news day".

Cecil nodded back, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, so I was on the internet - "

"That's never a good thing."

"Shh. And I found some things I thought you'd like."

"Oh, really?" Carlos raised his eyebrows. "Enlighten me.

"Don't sound so sarcastic," Cecil grinned. "You'll enjoy yourself. Trust me." There was a flash of something in Cecil's violet eyes, and it intrigued the scientist.

"Shoot," Carlos demanded, more interested than he was before.

"Okay, so first," Cecil stared up at Carlos. "You know why men are so much more attractive than women?"

Carlos thought for a second. "Well, I hypothesize that it has something to do with an individual's DNA - "

"No, no, no!" Cecil shushed the other. "Let me do the talking, okay? Men are so much more attractive than women because you can't spell 'sexy' with 'xy'."

The scientist grinned and laughed. "Because chromosomes. Heh," he snorted, true to his inner geek. "Awe. You learned science jokes for me. How cute." Carlos squeezed Cecil's hand.

"Not jokes," Cecil corrected him. "Pick-up lines. Just wait. They get better."

Carlos felt a little flash go though him. This'll... this'll be good, he thought.

Cecil absently lifted Carlos' hand up and examined it. "You're hotter than a Bunsen burner set to full power."

"Thank you," Carlos grinned.

"Don't. Talk," Cecil warned, shooting a glare up at his boyfriend before going back to his empty-minded observing. "I'd be the photon to your electron and take you to an excited state."

Carlos went to respond, but Cecil stopped him with a finger pressed to his lips. All that came out of Carlos was a little squeak. The broadcaster sat up and crawled into the other's lap.

"What do you say we convert our potential energy," the radio personality wrapped his arms around the scientist's neck, "to kinetic energy?"

"Cecil..," Carlos' face was spread into a tortured-looking smile. "W-what are you doing?"

"Wishing I was an ion," Cecil pulled at the collar of Carlos' lab coat. "So I could form an exothermic bond with you."

Carlos swallowed. "Keep going."

"I must be a diamond now," Cecil loosened his own purple bow tie and tossed it behind him, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. "Because you just gave me a hardness of ten."

"Dios," Carlos exhaled. "Cecil..."

"Wanna do some math?" Cecil went on, shrugging off his shirt. "Add the bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs, and let's multiply."

Carlos whimpered. This is way more attractive than it should be...

"You up for some DNA sampling later?" Cecil smirked at the other, pushing his lab coat off of his shoulders.

"I'm up for some now, but whatever," Carlos murmured, flushed.

"Well, let me just be a protein," Cecil pulled Carlos' shirt up over his head. "A DNA helicase, to be specific. So I could unzip your genes."

"God, Cecil," Carlos groaned. "Please keep talking."

"I would, but we have such great chemistry," Cecil answered, running his hand down Carlos' chest. "Why don't we do some biology?"

"If we don't, I'm gonna have to throw away these jeans," Carlos squeaked.

"Your reaction site's dying for a chemical reaction, huh? Let me be your enzyme."

"Cecil, I have never been more turned on in my life."

"I can tell," Cecil grinned. "Bedroom? Bring your stirring rod, I'll bring my beaker."

"You are so perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have to write the last two, but they'll be up soon. So thanks for reading and check for more! <3


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